The Lad and Lass

The lad and lass were forced to part.
They kissed and went along;
The sight went into the poet's heart,
And it came out a song.

The sun, down-sloping in the west.
Made gold the evening air;
The sight went into the painter's breast.
And grew to a picture fair.

The mother murmured to her child.
And hushed it yet again;
The sound, as the musician smiled,
Grew music in his brain.

The damsel turned her hair to bind,
A flower was in her zone;
There grew from out the sculptor's mind,
A damsel carved in stone.

The song was said, the tune was played.
The girl in marble stood,
The sunset in the picture stayed,
And all was sweet and good.

And God who made these things to be,
The damsel and the sun
Colour and sound, and you and me,
Was pleased to see it done;

And all the angels would be glad
If, in the world He built.
Although there must be some things sad.
No drop of joy were spilt.

But all the beauty in the earth.
And skies, and hearts of men,
Were gently gathered at its birth.
And loved, and born again.